Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone
by GoAskAlice137
Summary: REWRITE. Charlotte Gale's world was turned upside down the day her father was asked to work on a secret SHIELD project. Taken into protective custody, Charlie is thrust into a terrifying world full of spies, alien artifacts, and superheroes. All alone, and with no clue to who she can trust, she has no choice but to leave her fate in the hands of the very heroes she once idolized.
1. Dear Reader

**Dear Reader,**

 **Please note that this a rewritten version of my original Avenger's fan fiction, _Marvel's The Avengers: Broken Promises_ , which will remain unfinished.**

 **I've grown up a lot since I first started _Broken Promises_. I've graduated from college. I've spent time out in the real world. I've matured. And, I think it's time that Charlie mature, too.**

 **I've wanted Charlie to grow up for a long time now. It's gotten to the point that I feel I could no longer connect to her. And, while somethings will stay the same in this story, there are many things I want to change. There are things I want to add, while there are other things I want to get rid of. Most importantly, there are more adult-minded themes I want to explore.**

 **I firmly believe that the best way to do all this is to just start over.**

 **So, please, join me in this retelling of Charlie Gale's journey through the MCU in _Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone_. I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much, if not more, than the original.**

 **Much love to you all!**

 **GoAskAlice137**

 **P.S. Once _Danger Zone_ has reached the current ending point in the story, I will be deleting _Broken Promises_ from this site.**


	2. Prologue

**This story will begin after** _ **Thor: The Dark World**_ **, and will continue through the events of** _ **Captain America: The Winter Soldier**_ **. However, there is one major difference: in this story, Tony Stark HAS NOT had his arch reactor removed yet.**

 **I own all original characters.**

 **Full Summary:** **Charlotte Gale's world was turned upside down the day her father was asked to work on a top secret S.H.I.E.L.D. project. Taken into protective custody, Charlie is thrust into a terrifying world full of spies, alien artifacts, and superheroes. Alone, and with no clue to who she can trust, she has no choice but to leave her fate in the hands of the very heroes she once idolized.**

 **This story is** **Rated T** **. However, later chapters may be** **Rated M** **or** **Rated MA** **. Chapters with alternate ratings will be clearly marked.**

* * *

 **Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone **

**Prologue**

"What exactly am I looking at, here?" Dr. Daniel Gale asked, his voice trembling with awe as he studied the glossy photographs in his hands.

Nick Fury's face remained an emotionless mask, "We were hoping you could tell us, Doctor."

Dr. Gale's gaze dropped to the cover of the manila folder on his desk, its black eagle insignia marred with a red 'CLASSIFIED' stamp. He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably as he frowned.

"We were hoping that you might be able to give us a clue to its origin," Fury continued stonily, "as we have already determined that it's non-terrestrial."

"Where did you find it?" the doctor questioned, leafing through the documents.

"Egypt," Fury answered bluntly, absentmindedly brushing a speck of dust from the knee of his black trousers.

Gale's attention abruptly snapped to the director's scarred face, the color draining from his cheeks, "Cairo?"

"You and your family will have S.H.I.E.L.D.'s full protection," he assured him, "We'll keep you safe."

Dr. Gale looked Fury up and down, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He did not care for this man. He got the expressed impression that the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. would say just about anything to get him onboard his project. Still, it was a very enticing offer.

He looked back at the mesmerizing, puzzling photographs, "Why me?"

Director Fury smirked. "Dr. Gale," he began boldly, "You are the leading mind in cosmology on the planet. A tenured professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Not to mention, your dark matter research has had our attention at S.H.E.I.L.D. for quite a while, now. I believe the more appropriate question would be, 'why not you?'"

Gale stared at Fury over the rim of his glasses, nodding slowly as he held out his hand, "When do we get started?"

The director took his hand firmly as he stood, "Right now."


	3. Chapter 1

**Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone**

 **Chapter One**

It was half passed five on a comfortably cool, mid-October evening in North Boston, and Charlie Gale was loving every minute of it.

She strolled down the boulevard with her hands buried deep into the pockets of her beloved, brown and russet bomber jacket; its zipper open, exposing the three inches of bare skin around her abdomen to the autumn air. Her heavy satchel swung against her hip, loaded up with textbooks and notebooks, a thin wire running from the outer-most pocket to the electronic buds in her ears. David Guetta's "Titanium" blared loudly as she approached the front steps of her third floor walk-up.

The fall cold felt good on her hot muscles. She had spent all afternoon at the University's gym, having been trapped in classes all morning. She still needed to shave another ten seconds off of her running time if she wanted to make it into Navy Flight School. Though females were only required to make the mile and a half run in fourteen minutes and fifteen seconds, Charlie refused to do any less than the males' required twelve minute time. Admittedly, she would need to make it through boot camp and the Naval Academy first, so she still had plenty of time to meet her goal.

Reluctantly, Charlie had made a deal with her father. She could only enlist in the military after she had earned a bachelor's degree. He had been very open about his dislike for her becoming a pilot, and he had hoped that she would forget about the Navy and find a new dream at school. But she was in her senior year now, and still headstrong as ever. Her graduation was already scheduled for December, and if all went according to plan, she would be at the Naval Academy by this time next year.

She slipped her key into the lock, stepping into the entryway and immediately jogging up the stairs at a brisk pace. Her calves were burning wonderfully by the time she reached the third floor landing. Letting out a labored huff, she pulled her earbuds out as she approached her apartment door and unlocked the deadbolt.

"Tori?" she called to her roommate as she pushed her way inside, "You home?"

There was no answer. She dropped her satchel onto the futon in the living area, shrugging to herself as she continued towards her bedroom.

The first thing she did as she stepped inside was switch her television on, scrolling through her Netflix queue and selecting an episode of _Parks and Recreation_ to play in the background.

Charlie hated silence. She needed the noise. Needed the stimuli to distract her from herself.

She slid off her bomber jacket, tossing the wool-lined leather garment onto her bed as she strode passed the framed _Top Gun_ poster hanging on the wall. She stripped off her tank top, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the scent of sweat wafted over her face. She was in dire need of a shower. Pitching the shirt into the clothes hamper by the door, she ran her fingers through her moisture rung pixie cut and sighed. Her skin was still scorching from her workout as she quickly crossed to the window, opening it wide to let the chill air in.

She sat down heavily on the edge of her mattress in nothing but her old blue jeans and a shock bra. Swinging her foot up next to her, she was about to untie her sneakers, when suddenly she heard the floor in the hallway creek.

Charlie stopped, slowly dropping her foot back to the floor and standing, "Tori? That you?"

Still no answer.

Cautiously, she stepped out into the hall. "Tori, this is not funny!" she snapped, angrily heading towards the other woman's bedroom, "You know it freaks me out when you do this kind of shit!"

A chill danced up her spine and she shivered. The hair on her arms stood up, and her pulse quickened, thudding loudly in her ears as she came to a stop. The door was ajar, only by a few inches, but her gut was suddenly screaming at her that something was wrong. Holding her breath, she pressed two fingers to it and pushed, and it swung open without a sound.

"Tori?" she muttered, poking her head inside.

Charlie stifled a scream. She inhaled sharply, nearly choking on the breath as she jolted backwards. Her shoulders collided with the door, which in turn collided loudly with the wall, as she covered her gaping mouth with her hands. Her eyes were wide and horrorstruck as she collapsed to the floor, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.

Tori lay unmoving on her bed. Her skin was white, and her lips were blue. Her brown eyes stared unseeingly up at the ceiling, and her hands hung lifelessly off the edge of the mattress. She was still dressed in her pajamas, which were the same shade of purple as the bruises around her slender neck.

The floor behind her creaked.

Charlie's heart plummeted into her stomach. Breath caught in her throat, she steeled herself and forced her head to turn.

An enormous man stood in the corridor, dressed all in black. Even his face was concealed behind a formfitting, mesh mask. She could clearly see every line of his body, and the rise and fall of every breath he took as he stepped towards her. Scrambling backwards, Charlie shrieked as his hand clamped down around her ankle, and he dragged her out into the living room as she clawed uselessly at the floor.

She kicked, and she scratched, and she fought, but he did not release her leg until she was nearly in the center of the room. Rolling over onto all fours, she hurriedly tried to scamper away, but his large boot connected brutally with the small of her back. Charlie collapsed as the air was stolen from her lungs, and he yanked her back towards him.

She felt the cold, round barrel of a gun press to her temple as the man growled, the fabric of his mask moving with his lips, "Behave."

Charlie nodded frantically, slightly relieved when he pulled the pistol away from her head.

The next thing she knew, the intruder was on the floor beside her. A second man had come from out of thin air, landing forcefully on top of him. The two rolled frantically around on the carpet, desperately grappling for control of the gun in between punches.

She was glued to the spot, watching as the first intruder kicked his boot into the second man's stomach. He stumbled backwards as the masked man jumped to his feet, shoving the gun into his chest. That was when the second man grabbed the pistol by the barrel, swiftly shoving the front sight away from him before wrenching it from the other man's grip and immediately thrusting the bulk of the weapon forcefully it into his sternum.

Charlie heard the air hiss from his lungs as he doubled over, grabbing at the center of his chest. The second man then leveled the gun at the first, pulling the trigger twice in rapid succession.

She screamed as gun shots echoed through the apartment, blood splattering over her face and chest. Twisting, she crawled as fast as she could towards her bedroom, shoving at the door with the toe of her sneaker. But the second man followed, calmly pushing the door back open before it could shut. Charlie stared up at him from the floor, terrified beyond words.

He was just under six feet tall; broad shouldered and extremely well-muscled. His paramilitary style pants were tucked into his boots, topped with a tight t-shirt and leather jacket. A pistol rested on his hip, with the holster's thick straps wrapping around his left thigh. A pair of dark glasses were wrapped around his eyes, and a shock of sandy colored hair stood up messily on his head.

The other man's pistol was still clutched tightly in his hand.

He was visibly out of breath as he stepped inside her room. Charlie straightened, clawing at the footboard of her bed as she pulled herself unsteadily back onto her feet. Vocal chords had frozen in her throat, she gaped at the stranger standing between her and the exit. She swallowed dryly, playing out all the possible scenarios in her head.

He took another step forward, slowly crouching and setting the gun on the floor, before raising his hands in a calming gesture. Charlie did not budge. A pang of fear shot through her chest, watching with baited breath as he took another step, opening his mouth to say something. That was when she felt the evening breeze brush across her face.

Her eyes darted to the window, catching a brief glimpse of the curtains rustling in the wind.

He saw it.

"Wait!" he exclaimed loudly, lunging forward to grab her.

Charlie grabbed her jacket off of the bed, throwing it as hard as she could at his face. His body reacted automatically and he caught it with both hands, giving her the split second she needed to turn on her heel and dive, head first, out the window.

The iron grate of the fire escape dug into her palms as she rolled onto her back and bounced back to her feet. She hurriedly grabbed onto the railing and swung herself onto the stairwell. Dropping down, she jumped from landing to landing until she reached the bottom level and, without hesitation, threw herself onto the ladder. With a rush, she slid downward, before dropping the last nine feet onto the alleyway pavement and landing cat-like on her feet and hands with a loud cry of pain. Her knees collapsed under her as she chanced a glance up at the third floor balcony.

The second man was leaning over the railing, looking down at her with a bemused grimace on his face. Charlie watched in stunned silence as he shook his head and casually swung his legs over the side, effortlessly dropping to the next floor as he scaled down the exterior screens with astonishing ease.

She gasped loudly as his boots hit the pavement in front of her, scrambling to her feet and running as fast as her legs could carry her towards the street. She could hear his footfalls just behind her, and she pushed herself to run faster.

"Charlotte Gale!" she heard him cry, "Stop!"

Charlie cringed inwardly at the sound of her name as she slid out onto the sidewalk, nearly knocking over the neighbor boy. "Charlie?" she heard him shout after her, gawking at the man on her tail, "What's going on?"

Charlie ignored him, turning down the alley behind the building. She had shot here, and she knew it.

Halfway down the alley was a locked chain link fence topped with coiled barbed wire. She grabbed onto the nearest dumpster and hauled herself up, sprinting across the lid and then hurling herself into the air. She somersaulted over the barrier, landing heavily on her feet. She cried out again as pain sprung up her legs, falling forward onto her hands as she struggled to right herself. Gravel dug sharply into her palms as she shoved herself off the ground. Limping slightly, she risked looking back and immediately wished she had not.

The man jumped on the dumpster just as she had. Racing across the lid, and then jumping up, he pushed off the wall with his right foot, landing on the other side of the fence without as much as a sound.

She ran out into the street, not pausing to look in either direction. There was the sound of screeching tires, blaring horns, and angry shouting, but she kept going. Down another alley. Then, back out onto the main street. Twisting her way through the labyrinth of old buildings and crowds. Her chest was on fire. Her muscles ached and burned. Yet, the stranger remained just behind her, easily keeping pace.

Charlie was not sure she could last much longer, but she was too afraid to stop. She knew she needed to find a place to lose him. A place to hide. At this rate, she would never out run him.

She took another right, racing down yet another back alley and slipping gracelessly through a hole in the fence that stretched across the back.

The old warehouse had stood empty for years. It was known as a place where the neighborhood kids went to smoke pot and drink. The homeless occupied many of the old offices, and the coroner's van could be seen parked there at least once a week to take another dead junkie away. Charlie normally avoided the place, having been inside only once when she had been a teenager, but she remembered what a maze it was. There were old crates stacked to the ceiling, broken beams and collapsed walls covered in graffiti.

It took her a minute to find the door with the busted lock, only knowing the correct one from the description in the stories she had heard. She threw it open and bolted inside, nearly tripping over the trash that was littered over the concrete floor. She dodged around the towering mess that had been left behind, her pursuer out of sight for the first time. She kept going, heading for the old loading dock, but she was slowing rapidly. She could not breathe. Her entire body was shaking with the effort. Unable to take anymore, she collapsed onto all fours.

Charlie glanced behind her shakily, coughing, and was relieved to see that the man was no longer there.

She crawled along the floor, rolling into a sitting position and pressing her back against the stack of crates behind her as she continued to struggle to catch her breath. She heard something fall off to her left and she pulled her knees to her chest, doing her best not to make a sound. Cautiously, she began to slowly crawl in the opposite direction. Another noise, this one closer and to the right. She froze.

He came at her from above, dropping down on her like a hawk snatching up a mouse. Charlie immediately leaped up as he landed solidly on his feet in front of her, seizing her by the shoulders and pinning her forcefully into the wood with his large, cloying hands. The motion was swift and violent, but surprisingly, it did not hurt. Even as she continued to struggle against his grip, pushing against him with all her strength, his only action against her was to keep her still.

Charlie began screaming at the top of her lungs, desperate for anyone that might hear her, "HELP! HELP, SOMEBODY! HELP ME! GOD, PLEASE!"

The man's calloused hand quickly clamped down onto her mouth, shifting his weight to hold her more tightly. He kept her pinned to the crates with his left arm across her shoulders, and his solid body pressing into hers. She whimpered instinctively, thrashing against him, but he was too strong for her. She could feel all the muscles under his shirt, like rolled steel pressing into her soft flesh. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and tears spilled down her cheeks as a terrifying thought suddenly came into her mind. She began trembling all over, suddenly realizing that she was completely unable to move. She screamed into his palm.

The man suddenly pulled back a fraction of an inch, his face immediately softening behind his glasses as he looked at her, sensing her new fear at the closeness of his body.

"Hey... Hey? Charlotte?" he began gently, making soothing noises between the rapid heaves of his breath, "Shhh... Shhh... Hey? You're alright. You're alright. Okay? Breathe. Just breathe..." He swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple betraying his own discomfort, "I'm one of the good guys. Okay? I'm not going to hurt you."

A renewed panic shot through her at the sound of her name, and she shoved against him even harder.

"Charlotte?" he questioned sharply, clamping himself back down on her to hold her still, "Hey, hey, hey... No. Shhhh... You're alright. Okay? Stop. Just stop. Please...?" He licked his lips and swallowed dryly, "Look... I'm going to move my hand now, but only if you promise not to scream?"

Charlie stared at him with wide, glassy eyes, not fully comprehending his words.

He carefully removed his hand, "Are you Charlotte Gale?"

"Charlie," she answered reflexively, her voice barely audible.

He nodded slowly, pulling his muscular frame away as he dexterously set her feet back on the ground.

Charlie immediately took several steps away from him, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

"Okay, then. Charlie," he said calmingly, removing his sunglasses. His eyes were a steely grey. They were cold, sharp, and completely unwavering as they locked securely on her, "I'm Agent Barton. Your father sent me to get you. So, I need you to come with me."

The word 'agent' barely registered in her thoughts as she glared at him suspiciously through water logged eyes. She shook her head, pointing at him accusingly, "Tori… She's… And, you… You killed that man..."

Barton frowned, sighing through his nostrils, "He would have done worse to you, believe me."

She could hear sirens sounding somewhere off in the distance, and getting closer, while tires were screeching to a halt outside.

"Help!" Charlie screamed, backing away from the stranger anxiously, "HELP! I'M IN HERE! HELP ME!"

He lunged forward again, the movement so fast she barely had time to react. He seized her tightly by the arm as she continued to struggle to pull away, and he swiftly tangled his leg around hers. Charlie lost her balance, but Barton caught her almost gracefully, tugging her back against his chest. She clawed her fingers into his shirt, just as she felt a sharp sting on the side of her neck.

Charlie's blue eyes locked on his silvery ones pleadingly, her body suddenly very heavy. She felt his hand dig into the small of her back, cradling her face with the other, as her fingers loosened and her feet abruptly surrendered to her weight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently lowered her to the ground.

She felt the bite of the cold concrete on her bare skin, and then the world went black.


	4. Chapter 2

**Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone**

 **Chapter Two**

"How did this happen?"

Agent Clint Barton wished he knew the answer as he watched an infuriated Director Fury lean back in his chair.

"He was waiting for her, Sir," he began solemnly, standing on the other side of the director's desk with his expression strained, "Coroner says he killed the roommate sometime around 0930. That's after Miss Gale had already left for class."

Barton shifted his weight to his other foot, clutching his fists tightly behind his back in an effort to control his mounting temper. "I followed her home from the university's athletic facility. Discreetly, as instructed," he continued, "At that time, there was no indication of any threats towards Miss Gale's wellbeing, so I kept my distance."

The creases around Fury's scowl deepened, "And when did that change?"

Barton swallowed dryly, glancing down at his boots, "When I heard her scream."

"It's not your fault," Natasha Romanoff assured him, silently appearing next to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You did everything by the book."

"I could've lost her," he grumbled back, glancing at her out of his periphery and grimacing.

"Romanoff's right," Fury concurred, "Don't beat yourself up over this."

Barton did not feel reassured, but he took a deep breath and forced his body to relax as Natasha placed a manila folder in front of the director. Fury opened the report, glaring down at its contents, before scoffing exasperatedly and tossing it aside.

"So, you're telling me this guy is a ghost?" he snapped in frustration, "That we have nothing? Nothing at all? Christ almighty!"

Agent Romanoff's face remained as impassive and perfect as ever.

"I'm afraid so, Sir," she answered promptly, "Just like the others in Cairo, he has no fingerprints and his dental work has all been removed. We're running his DNA through every national and international database we could think of, but if past proves to be prologue, then that'll be a dead end, as well."

The director laid his head back, exhaustedly rubbing his temples, "Who the hell are these people? And, what the hell do they know about the artifact that we don't?"

Romanoff and Barton remained silent.

Fury leaned forward abruptly, jabbing his index finger at the two pointedly, "Dr. Gale does not hear about this, do you understand? This cannot affect their progress. We need to figure this thing out, and the sooner the better. Especially, since we now have an unknown number of goddamned, nameless, faceless terrorist trying to steal it out from under us!"

"That may be difficult, Sir." Romanoff purred, "Dr. Gale is demanding to see his daughter."

"Then we let him see her." Fury growled, "We just keep her quiet."

* * *

 _It was hot. So very hot._

 _Charlie was on her knees, the hard stone under her rough against her exposed skin. She was kneeling in front of a large reflecting pool, the crystal water smooth as glass as her reflection glinted up at her in the blinding sun. There was a crown of white lilies in her short, auburn hair, and dark liner encased her pale azure eyes. A plain, white cotton tunic hung loosely from her shoulders, draping delicately over her modest breasts._

 _She blinked several times, baffled by this wondrous place and its ungodly heat._

 _"W-where am I?" she asked her twin, her eyes darting around frantically._

 _All around her were huge stone columns. They towered into the sky, decorated with thousands of colorful hieroglyphs. The walls were open, and the air was humid, thick, and smelled of river water. Reeds were blowing in the subtle breeze, and monstrous golden dunes sat back against the stark horizon. And, when she dropped her eyes back to her reflection in the water, another figure had appeared on its glistening surface._

 _Charlie looked up at the woman sitting directly across from her, a feeling of safety and refuge instantly spreading through her body._

 _Her skin was smooth and tan like copper. Her eyes were dark like volcanic glass. Her long hair was so black, it looked almost blue, like a clear night sky. Gold thread was woven into Her many braids, and heavy beads hung around Her neck. The crown that sat atop Her head was unlike anything Charlie had ever seen; a dazzling, perfect sphere of colorful light, that was as bright as the sun and encase by two golden horns on either side._

 _She was inhumanly beautiful. Stunning to look at._

 _"Who are you?" she asked, her voice breathy and full of marvel._

 _"_ _ **I am the mother.**_ _"_

Charlie awoke to the sound of a door shutting somewhere within her apartment. Groaning, she rolled over onto her side, peering through the darkness in search of the green glow of her alarm clock, but there was nothing. She furrowed her brow as she reached out, blindly feeling for her bedside table. Her fingers slid silently through the shadow, and then, all at once, the memories of what had happened came surging back to her.

She bolted up right, her heart skipping a beat as she tumbled off the cushioned surface she had been perched on. The floor was unyielding and as cold as stone, but slick like tile. She landed on her hip, her humorous then colliding mercilessly with the ground. She stifled a shout as pain vibrated down her arm and into her fingertips. She straightened her legs out of reflex, her bare feet rubbing over the fibers of what she assumed was a rug, before striking something solid.

There was a thin strip of light a few feet away, peeking out from under what she assumed was a door. She crawled slowly towards it, feeling her way along the floor until she felt the wall in front of her. Sliding her hand up, she quickly located the doorknob and twisted it, shoving the door open forcefully.

She was momentarily stunned by the glare of the overhead lights as they flooded over her, but once her eyes adjusted, she was taken aback for an entirely different reason. She was in an apartment. Not her apartment, but a much smaller, simple space. The room behind her was occupied by two twin-size beds, and attached to a small bathroom, while in front of her was a small living area. There was a sofa with a matching chair, and a flat screen television mounted on the wall. And, just beyond was a kitchenette, with a small fridge, a microwave, and a stove top.

It was all bland and impersonal, like a chain motel room, and not at all what she had been expecting to find.

She stood, cautiously creeping out into the living room, when she heard someone openly clear their throat.

Charlie jumped, spinning towards the source of the sound. There was a woman seated at the lacquered table behind a pile of printed documents and manila folders. She was small, with a mousy bob, and was almost swallowed up by her navy pantsuit.

"Who are you?" she demanded quietly, glaring suspiciously at the woman, "Where the hell am I?"

"I'm Agent Gretchen Taylor. I'll be your handler for the duration of your stay with us," she answered adeptly, "And, as to where you are…? You are safe. That's all that matters."

"Us? Who the hell is _us_?" Charlie snapped, taking a bold step forward, "This is such bullshit! I'm an American citizen. I have rights. You can't just—"

"—Not here, you don't," Taylor interrupted, looking calmly back at her with the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement, "We can. And, we did."

That threw her. Charlie stared at the woman, slack jawed and horrified, "Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

Taylor grimaced, clearly annoyed by all her questions. "I'm afraid this has nothing to do with you," she informed her tersely, "Your father has agreed to consult with us on a matter of national security. You've been taken into protective custody, as was deemed necessary after your attempted abduction."

"Abduction?" she scoffed, "That man was trying to kill me!"

"It may have appeared that way," the agent corrected her, "But our intelligence shows that his intent was to gain access to your father, and his project with us, by proxy. Killing you would have been against his interests."

Charlie took a deep breath to steady herself, "Where is my father?"

"Dr. Gale is here, at this facility," Taylor stated bluntly, "Now, please have a seat Miss Gale. We have a lot to get through."

She rushed forward, leaning hostilely over the table, "My father is here?"

"Yes," the agent answered flatly, irritated by having to repeat herself as she shuffled the pages in front of her.

"Take me to see him," Charlie demanded sternly, jabbing her finger down onto the tabletop, "Now."

"Out of the question. Now, have a seat."

Charlie retained her threatening stance. "Lady," she began direly, struggling to stifle her building rage, "You have no idea how big of a pain in the ass I can be…"

Taylor narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, when the door behind her suddenly opened. A tall black man entered, striding towards them with his long leather coat flaring out dramatically behind him. Charlie could not help but notice his eye, covered by a black eye-patch, and the skin around it raked with scars.

"I think I'll take it from here," he addressed Taylor curtly, "Dismissed."

Taylor immediately shut her mouth. Standing rigidly, she nodded to him as she passed, shutting the door sharply behind her.

Charlie watched him closely, her nose scrunched in distrust as he took Taylor's chair and casually sat down across from her, picking a manila folder up off the table and leaning back comfortably.

"Charlotte Gale," he began as he perused the pages, his voice deep and sharp, "Twenty-three years old. Born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to parents Daniel and Cassandra Gale. Top of your graduating class at Revere Preparatory Academy, with honors. Full scholarship to The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and majoring in… Aerospace Engineering?" He chuckled, looking up at her with an amused smile on his face, "Hot damn, you must be a smart one!"

"That's the general consensus," she replied icily, "Who are you?"

"Hmm…" he sighed, closing the folder and leaning forward as he set it back on the table, "Straight to the point. I like that."

He fixed his good eye on her, and all jubilance was gone from his features in an instant, replaced instead by a cold urgency, "I'm Director Nick Fury with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Charlie blinked, baffled, "The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics…? What the f—"

"—You can call us S.H.I.E.L.D."

"So, what?" Charlie spat back at him, "You're like the C.I.A.?"

Director Fury smirked, "No, we're far more specialized."

"Specialized?" she questioned, quirking her brow impatiently, "In what exactly?"

"I'm afraid that's classified," he answered evenly.

"Of course, it is," she responded bitterly.

"Miss Gale," Fury began deftly, "Let me make something perfectly clear, here. There is a very real threat out there, and it's my job to stop it. And, for that, I need your father's help. So, do us both a favor here, and let's be civil about this."

"I want to see him," she countered, not backing down.

"Of course," he conceded, "But, I'm afraid there're somethings you and I need to discuss first."

"Such as…?"

He leaned forward almost direly, "I can't have your father knowing about what happened at your apartment. For the sake of national security, I need him focused on his work. I can't have him distracted."

She frowned, "You're asking me to lie? With no further reason than your say so?"

"Yes."

Charlie's eyes looked him up and down, studying every facial feature and micro expression, "If I say yes, you'll let me see him?"

Fury answered by sliding one of the documents towards her, "It's more complicated than that."

"A non-disclosure agreement?" she observed, pulling the paper closer.

"It's a mandatory part of the deal," he retorted, "That contract basically states that, if you tell anyone about anything you see here, you will be charged with treason and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

Charlie eyed the contract doubtfully as she carefully sank down into the seat opposite him, "You won't let me leave here until I sign this, will you?"

"I can't," he told her honestly, "I can't let you see what's beyond that door."

She glanced around the apartment uncertainly, before fixing her eyes back on him and sighing, "You got a pen?"

His lips twitched in a miniscule smirk as he reached into his inner coat pocket, handing her an aluminum sheathed pen.

Charlie hurriedly scrawled her signature across the bottom of the last page, before shoving the contract back across the table, "Now take me to see him."

* * *

Charlie had pressed herself into the narrow corner opposite Director Fury as the elevator began to drop. They hurdled downward, smoother and faster than any other elevator she had ever been in. Still, it felt like it took an eternity to reach the bottom. And, by the time the doors finally slid open, her claustrophobia was itching under her skin.

She stepped out behind him onto a gleaming catwalk, and Charlie promptly lost her breath.

They were above what appeared to be an immense aircraft hangar, filled with brilliant lights and shining metal. She moved cautiously to the railing, glancing down at the five story drop with unhindered amazement. Below her were dozens of jets, helicopters, and hundreds of people; agents of all kinds scurried about their jobs, some in black suits, some in white coats, some were flight crew, and some wore form-fitting blue jumpsuits. While the void above her seemed to go up for miles, honeycombed by walkways and passages that were connected to numerous corridors that went to everywhere and nowhere, as far as she could tell.

It was unbelievable.

Charlie followed Fury through a maze of glinting, metallic corridors. The entire place smelled strongly of disinfectant, almost like a hospital, only much cleaner. They hurried passed the countless windows of labs, server rooms, and offices, with dozens upon dozens of people passing them in the hallways, nodding respectfully to the director. She began to feel dizzy. It never seemed to end.

They crossed the open doors of a small cafeteria, with a dozen round tables and a set of vending machines pressed against the far wall. Almost immediately, her gaze landed on Agent Barton, seated alone at the table closest to the doorway as he sipped his coffee out of a white mug marked with a black eagle insignia. He had his head down, reading something on the tabletop in front of him.

Charlie slowed slightly as her stomach did a flip and her mouth went dry, when suddenly his head snapped up and his unnerving silver eyes locked directly onto her. The hair on her arms abruptly stood on end, and she inhaled sharply. He grinned coyly at her, his expression turning almost sympathetic. She quickly turned away, hurrying to catch up to Fury, and rubbing her palms up her arms as she fell back into step.

They came to a second set of elevators, and Charlie had to suppress a groan as she stepped through the stainless-steel doors. They descended another six floors, and by the time the doors opened again, her skin was crawling.

Fury arched a brow at her expectantly, and Charlie forced her uneasiness aside as they took a right down a sterile hallway that dead-ended in a pair of highly polished, reinforced titanium doors.

The woman who stood in front of the access hatch was one of the most beautiful women that Charlie had ever seen. Scarlet waves framed her porcelain cheekbones, highlighting her bright green eyes and full ruby-painted lips. Her white blouse clung to her in all the right places, and her stiletto pumps accented her black pencil skirt nicely. Her silhouette was breathtaking, with her curves forming a near perfect hourglass. She was flawless, standing with her hand on her hip, before swiftly striding towards them with the kind of self-confidence that Charlie wished she had when it came to her own body.

"Miss Gale," Director Fury began lightly, "this is Agent Romanoff. She's in charge of the security surrounding your father's project with us."

Charlie blinked, struggling to keep the surprise off her face, that such a gorgeous woman was a government agent.

"Think you can handle it from here?" he addressed Romanoff with a stern glare.

"Of course, Sir," the agent purred back, "Thank you."

"Alright then," he growled, turning to leave. He suddenly paused, looking back at Charlie over his shoulder, "And, Miss Gale? I've got my eye on you."

Charlie felt her cheeks flush as she watched him walk away, disappearing at the end of the hall.

"Charlotte?" Agent Romanoff turned to her with a soft smile.

"Um, it's Charlie," She responded automatically, tearing her eyes away from the spot the director had vanished.

"Charlie, then," the agent corrected herself, "Please come with me."

Agent Romanoff led her the rest of the way down the passage, stopping in front of the industrial doorway. There was some sort of biometric lock on the wall next to the layers of steel. Romanoff pressed a polished finger to the fingerprint pad, and then bent forward for the retinal scanner. A keypad appeared on the digital screen and Charlie watched as she entered the nine-digit code, making sure to commit it to memory.

There was a sudden hissing noise, and then the doors slowly opened.

"The work area is a clean room," she explained as Charlie followed her under the harsh UV lights of the decontamination chamber, "Hold still."

A burst of air came from all directions at once, and then the glass door opposite them hissed and popped open, revealing a very lived-in recreational area. There were two couches and three armchairs, all of which were disheveled and had pillows and blankets piled at their feet. The tables were cluttered with metal cafeteria trays, Red Bull cans, and water bottles. Charlie was instantly reminded of her father's lab back in Cambridge.

"The only thing missing is the pile of pizza boxes," she uttered under her breath.

The far wall was entirely constructed of glass, leaving the view of the laboratory beyond unobstructed. There were four men busying themselves with varying pieces of large and expensive equipment, and Charlie instantly recognized two.

"Is that Tony Stark?" she asked, openly stunned as she gaped at the man standing next to her father in the Black Sabbath T-shirt.

"Yes," Agent Romanoff answered tersely.

Charlie felt the redness in her cheeks burn brighter. She quickly looked away, focusing on the remaining two scientists. One was a man in his early sixties with thinning grey hair and watery blue eyes. She could not help but think that he looked familiar. It took a few seconds of scratching at her memory bank before she finally placed a name to his face.

"That's Erik Selvig," she whispered to herself, baffled.

Agent Romanoff's head whipped around, her face breaking into shock for a split second before she recovered her composure.

"He was a guest lecturer at M.I.T. a few years ago," she explained to the agent, "He, ah, gave a seminar on the possibility of Einstein-Rosen bridges existing in deep space. It was really interesting, actually."

Agent Romanoff was still staring at her. Charlie just shrugged, "I took a few astrophysics courses that year. It was good extra credit."

Her attention drifted to the last man in the room. He was a little shorter than her father, and he had a tired look about him that went beyond sleep deprivation. He looked almost sick in certain shades of light, and his dark hair seemed to be graying prematurely at his temples. He had his round glasses resting above his eyebrows as he looked down into a microscope.

"So," she asked carefully, "Who's he, then?"

"That's Dr. Banner," the agent obliged her as she strutted towards the glass door.

Charlie did not recognize the name. She watched as Agent Romanoff entered into the lab and tapped her father lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned and spoke a few words to her, and then suddenly Charlie found five sets of eyes glued to her. She shifted nervously, resisting the sudden urge to run out of the room.

Daniel Gale practically sprinted through the clear door, crossing the room in a few elongated strides and immediately enveloped her in a rib-crushing hug. "Thank God," he breathed into her hair.

"Hi, Dad," she gasped, wrapping her arms loosely around his back.

Suddenly shoving her away, he held her out at arms' length. "When they told me, they'd brought you here…" he paled, "I've been worried sick!"

Charlie felt her cheek twitch, taken aback by the amount of genuine fear in her father's eyes. She swallowed dryly, glancing over his shoulder at Agent Romanoff, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as their eyes met. The coldness in her expression was enough to send a fresh chill down her spine.

She turned back to her father, exhaling slowly before forcing her face into a relaxed smile. "I'm fine," she reassured him, "Really. They explained everything to me. It's just an extra precaution. That's all."

He let out the breath he had been holding, clearly relieved, "Oh. Oh, good."

"Though, I am going to miss my midterm exams," she added as she gently pealed his hands from her shoulders, stepping around him and examining the lab thoughtfully through the glass, "I wouldn't mind knowing why?"

She watched as her father shared a questioning look with Agent Romanoff, "I can't tell you that, Charlotte. It's all classified."

Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, careful to keep her expressions casual and unimposing. Folding her hands behind her back, she eyed the sheets of data digitally displayed on clear screens, to the board-long equations placed throughout the room. At first glance, it seemed like a jumbled mess. She could make out high gamma radiation readings, and several inconsistent data sets of varying electrical frequencies. There were also maps of the Nile river basin, and multiple photographs of ruins in the desert.

"Interesting," she observed.

"It is," Dr. Gale agreed as he moved to stand next to her, "though the constant inconsistencies in the data has been a challenge."

"Inconsistencies?" her eyes kept being drawn back to the erratic graph of frequencies, struck by their remarkable resemblance to an electroencephalogram, "What's the unit of measure? Hertz? Have you accounted for all outside stimuli?"

"Stimuli?" he questioned as his lips twisted into a confused scowl.

"If your having problems with unknown inconsistencies in the data," She shrugged again, pointing to the frequency charts, "then maybe there is something contaminating your experiment that your unaware of? Reactions to an unknown, outside stimuli could explain the fluctuations in the wave frequencies."

Charlie turned back to her father to find him staring at her, dumbfounded.

"That's not…" he let his words trail off, and Charlie saw a stroke of inspiration light up in his eyes, "I have to get back to work!" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed, kissing her temple, "I'm sorry, Charlotte! But I need to—"

"—Yeah," Charlie smiled back at him, giving him a gentle shove back towards the door, "I know. I know."

"I'll see you soon, okay?" he promised, backing towards the lab, "Soon!"

"God, Dad!" she half laughed at him, "Just go already! I'm fine!"

She watched as he scrambled into the lab, the door sealing itself soundlessly behind him.

Charlie turned back to Agent Romanoff, striding purposefully passed her, stepping through the decontamination chamber, and back out into the passageway. The instant the agent had locked the reinforced doors, she turned back around to face her, letting the friendly mask she had worn dissolve.

"Tell Director Fury," she spat at Agent Romanoff, her tone dire and acrid, "Never to ask me to lie to my father again. Because next time, I won't."


	5. Chapter 3

**Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone**

 **Chapter Three**

Charlie shut the apartment door on Agent Romanoff a little more sharply than she had meant to, immediately slumping heavily against it and sliding down to the floor.

She pulled her knees to her chest, staring blankly at the empty room in front of her as her breathing became less and less even, and it was not long before she was unable to catch her breath. A cold sweat broke out along her spine, and she began to tremble uncontrollably. Her stomach churned, and her pulse throbbed painfully in her temples. The entire world seemed to be crashing down around her; out of control and dissolving before her eyes.

She suddenly felt very hot, like her skin was burning from the inside, and her head began to spin. She collapsed onto the beige carpet, curling into the fetal position as tears erupted from her eyes, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

She cried for what felt like hours, until her eyes had run dry, and exhaustion had wrecked her body. _And then, suddenly, s_ _he felt the carpet turn rough and solid under her._

 _Slowly pushing herself up off the stone floor, she wiped at her cheeks, looking up at the glistening sky with unhindered wonder._

 _She was back at the glistening reflecting pool, with the extraordinary golden woman seated before her, shimmering in the desert sun. The glowing orb in her crown was almost hypnotic, casting odd shadows along the columns._

 _"_ _ **Why are you crying?**_ _" She asked in a voice like wind-chimes._

 _"I'm afraid," Charlie confessed to her._

 _In an unnaturally fluid motion, She reached across the water, grasping onto her hands tightly. Charlie felt warmth surge through her entire body, spreading outward from the woman's enormous palms, and instantly soothing all of her anxieties. She exhaled shakily, unable to believe what was transpiring._

 _"_ _ **Fear not,**_ _" She told her benevolently, "_ _ **All will be well."**_

* * *

"External stimuli?" Eric Selvig scoffed, "Preposterous!"

"Look," Dan Gale countered animatedly from his seat, "I know it sounds crazy…"

"Not really," Bruce Banner began pensively, his round glasses clenched in his fist as he leaned against one of the laboratory tables, "It's an extraterrestrial object of unknown origin. The only thing we really know about it, is that we don't know anything about it."

"I don't know," Selvig shook his head uncertainly, "You're saying that this thing is alive? I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around that."

"Not alive, per say," Gale elaborated, "At least not in the way we understand the word. But aware of its surroundings? Yes. I think so."

"It's an interesting theory," Banner conceded, folding his arms across his chest as he turned to Stark, "What do you think, Tony?"

Tony Stark stood in front of one of the many Plexiglas monitors, with his hands on his hips and his dark eyes fixated on the erratic frequency readings dancing in real-time across the screen.

"Tony?" Banner repeated when he did not answer.

Stark calmly reached forward, using his fingertips to enlarge the graph until it covered the entire display, "I think Dan's daughter is a genius."

Banner leisurely pushed himself off of the edge of the table, moving to stand beside his friend.

Stark pointed decisively to a single wave-line on the screen, asking thoughtfully, "What does that look like to you?"

Banner leaned forward, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on as he examined the readings. "I'll be damned," he muttered, straightening up and looking back in disbelief at Dr. Gale, "Beta waves."

"It's awake?" Selvig questioned, slack jawed.

The monitor suddenly beeped, alerting them to an abrupt change in the data stream. All of the frequency levels rapidly maxed out, the graphics turning red as the four men watched transfixed.

"It's reacting to something," Dr. Gale observed in awe.

"Yeah…" Stark breathed, "But, what?"

Banner frowned, "How many times has it maxed out like that?"

"Twice," Gale answered, "Both times, in the last twenty-four hours."

"So," Dr. Banner hummed in thought, his brow furrowed, "what's changed in the last twenty-four hours?"

* * *

It had been three days.

Charlie had not left the tiny apartment since they had taken her to see her father, and she had not seen a soul since. The isolation was starting to unnerve her, and she was starting to seriously question her mental state.

Every time she closed her eyes, she would find herself back at the temple by the river, with the sand dunes lining the horizon and the blissfully warm sun shining overhead. She would always be beside the reflecting pool, seated across from the breathtaking, golden woman and her mesmerizing crown. And, it had come to the point that she found herself looking forward to these odd dreams.

Charlie lounged on the small sofa, only half watching the television in front of her, with her arm propped up on one of the throw pillows and her temple resting in her palm. She had stayed in the position for so long that both of her legs were asleep and her hand had gone numb, but she could not find the willpower to move.

She was nearly halfway through her fourth _X-Files_ rerun when she heard the apartment door open, nearly jumping out of her skin as she whirled her head around.

"Morning," her father greeted her cheerily as he closed the door softly behind him.

"It's morning?" Charlie responded blankly, frowning at him. She had completely lost track of time.

He smiled guiltily at her, holding his arms out in an apologetic shrug, "I know. I said I'd see you soon."

Charlie rolled her eyes as she sat upright, "I've known 'soon' was a relative term for you since I was six."

Her father sat down next to her, sinking back into the cushions with a relieved sigh. "My work has always been my weakness," he told her remorsefully, "I've always gotten lost in it. It's not fair to you, and I'm sorry."

She shrugged sullenly, not looking at him directly, "Life's not fair, Dad. I learned that a long time ago."

"You're right," he sighed, "Life is not fair. So, it doesn't need any extra help from me, does it?"

Charlie could not help but grin at that, "No. I suppose it doesn't."

He reached over, grabbing her gently by the arm and pulling her into a one armed hug and squeezing. "But, I think I found a way to make it up to you," he said teasingly, "How'd you like to meet Iron Man?"

Charlie sat straight up, pulling herself out from under his arm as she turned to stare at him with her cheeks burning bright red. "I, uh…no…" she stammered, suddenly overwhelmed by inexplicable embarrassment, "I mean, yes…I mean, um…"

"What's wrong?" her father questioned with a concerned frown, "I thought you'd be thrilled? He's one of your all time heroes, isn't he?"

"He is," she admitted with a sigh, running her fingers through her short hair uncomfortably, "It's just… You know what they say about meeting your heroes?"

"Don't be foolish," he scolded her, "Stark is actually a pretty nice guy, surprisingly enough. A little arrogant, maybe. But most intelligent people are."

"Boy," she threw him an impish look, "You're telling me."

He shoved playfully at her arm as he stood, "Alright, then. I need to be getting back. I'll see you soon."

Charlie just smirked up at him knowingly.

"Tonight," he corrected himself, walking briskly towards the door, "I will see you tonight!"

"Hey," she called after him as he stepped out into the corridor, "I will take an autograph!"

Her father grinned back at her, shaking his head incredulously as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Tony knew that Bruce did not like this idea.

"I don't know about this," the doctor protested again, "Really."

"Jesus!" Tony spat back at him as he slipped his feet into the radiation suit, "Will you relax already?"

"No," Bruce countered vehemently, "No, I will not relax. Because this is stupid, and you know it!"

"We need to get it to react," Stark quickly justified.

"So what?" Banner threw up his hands, exasperated, "You're going to go in there and poke at it?"

Tony shrugged, "Nothing else we've tried has worked."

Bruce shook his head disbelievingly as he dropped down onto the bench next to him. "This is reckless," he cautioned.

Tony smirked, "Just another Tuesday night for us."

Bruce rolled his eyes.

He helped the billionaire finish getting into the bulky white jumpsuit. Zipping it up passed the glowing circle embedded in his chest, he secured the large head covering, unable to resist tapping a little at the face-shield, "How's that?"

"Quit that!" Tony huffed, hindered by the heavy suit as he swiped awkwardly at his hand.

Bruce smirked puckishly back at him, "I thought you wanted me to lighten up?"

Tony opened his mouth to retort, when Erik Selvig's voice came over the communications system in his headpiece, "How's it look, Stark?"

Tony continued to scowl at Bruce as he replied flatly, "Hunky-dory."

"You're sure you want to do this, Mr. Stark?" Dan Gale's voice sounded shakily through the comms, "It's not too late to back out."

"I'm good," Tony insisted, a little annoyed now, "Peachy keen. Now, let's do this already."

Tony tried to ignore his rising heartrate as he approached the decontamination chamber at the far end of the room. His pulse drummed in his ears, and his mouth went dry as he glanced uncertainly back at Bruce, before stepping through the reinforced, Plexiglas door. The ultraviolet light glared off his face mask, fogging up with his breath. A white gust of air suddenly shot up through the floor, briefly disorienting him, when at last, he stepped into the glaring passage beyond.

It all looked so space-age. He slowly made his way down the metal walkway, lined bottom and top with painfully bright bulbs that bleached the air around them.

"Be careful, Tony," Bruce radioed urgently into his ear, "You don't want a blast of gamma radiation this strong. Trust me."

"What?" Tony choked on his own attempt at gallows' humor, "Will I get all mean and green, too?"

"Funny," Bruce quipped dryly.

He reached the heavy lead-lined door at the end of the tunnel, marked with a large, blaring-yellow radiation symbol, and he took a deep breath, "Open it."

A heart-stopping _clank_ echoed through the hall as the door's electronic lock unlatched and it slowly swung open. Immediately, Tony had to shield his eyes against the blinding light that forced its way through the gaps. It burned his retinas, and he blinked rapidly as his deep, brown eyes teared automatically, and he inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. It was like looking directly into the sun.

"You alright in there, Stark?" Selvig boomed into his ear.

"Should've worn my sungla—," he began to gripe, slowly lowering his hand as his eyes started to adjust, when he was promptly struck speechless.

Seeing the artifact on a screen was nowhere near the same as seeing it in person. It was like a minuscule star. That was really the only way Tony could think to describe it. A perfect sphere of colorful, opalescent light the size of a basketball; it levitated silently in the center of the room, surrounded by the gleaming shards of the granite sarcophagus that had once contained it. Its surface seemed to ebb and flow like plasma, with spectacular loops and prominences of pigment exploding from its photosphere. Meanwhile, the chromosphere filled the entire room, filling the air with specks of what looked like gold dust and microscopic diamonds, orbiting languidly around their brilliant center.

Cautiously taking a step inside, Tony could feel a gentle pull from just behind his navel, urging him towards the miniature celestial body. He took another careful step, and then another. His entire body was tingling, like an electrical charge was sliding over his skin.

"Anything?" he asked the observation lab quietly, strangely afraid to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Nothing yet," Bruce answered.

Tony could not help but note that he sounded like he was holding his breath. "Breathe Banner," he advised him, "I'm the one who's pulling the irresponsible stunt here. Remember?"

Bruce just sighed into the microphone.

He stopped, only an arm's length from the artifact, with the pull in his stomach intensifying tenfold.

"Yep," he reprimanded himself breathily, "Definitely stupid and irresponsible."

Inch by inch, he raised his hand, reaching out for the artifact with unsure fingers. Its plasma surface began to swirl faster the closer he got, until his palm was only inches from it.

A massive solar prominence suddenly erupted from its shifting exterior, flaring outward and twisting its way up Tony's arm in a single winding movement. He gasped loudly, freezing in place as the light flowed smoothly up past his elbow.

"Tony!" Bruce called frantically.

Tony swallowed thickly, still petrified in mid-reach as he uttered, "Um, what do I do? What do I do?"

"Stay still!" Bruce commanded him.

"Yeah," he half laughed back, "Already on it."

"Hertz are increasing!" Gale exclaimed excitedly, "It's reacting to you!"

"No shit!" Tony snapped back, "Now, what do I do?"

His arm was starting to go numb, and his pulse was racing so fast he was starting to get lightheaded. He closed his eyes, but the light burned through his eyelids. And, he felt hot. _It was ungodly hot. He could feel the sun on his face. He could smell the muggy river air and sense the solid stone under his feet. And, there was someone there with him. A presence that made the hair on his neck stand on end._

 _ **"Fear not."**_

Tony ripped his arm away from the orb so forcefully that he fell over backwards, landing heavily on his back with a startled yell.

"Tony!" he heard Bruce shout in his ear, his voice going up an octave, "Tony, you alright?"

Tony stared up at the sphere, mystified, with his breathing short and labored. "Yeah," he responded hesitantly, "I'm good."


	6. Chapter 4

**Marvel's The Avengers: Danger Zone**

 **Chapter Four**

Dan Gale watched on the monitor screen as Dr. Banner helped Stark remove the radiation suit's unwieldy head covering.

Stark practically collapsed onto one of the benches, his chest visibly heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He wiped at his glistening brow with the back of his gloved hand, before pointing threateningly up at Banner, "Don't you dare say it!"

"I wasn't going to," Banner replied sincerely, stooping to unzip the front of the suit, "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Stark huffed, standing unsteadily as he began peeling off the suit, "Yeah. I told you, I'm good."

"Uh-huh," Banner sounded unconvinced.

Dan shared his concerns. Stark's vital readings were almost as erratic as the artifact's. His blood pressure and pulse had skyrocketed to near dangerous levels. And, even through the camera feed, you could see that his pupils were blown wide, with only a sliver of brown visible. He was undoubtedly disturbed by what had happened minutes prior, and was noticeably trembling, with sweat pooling at his temples. The man was genuinely afraid, he realized. And, that disturbed him.

"This is unbelievable," Dr. Selvig marveled at the new frequency outlines on the display in front of him, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Dan glanced back at him with a small smile, "This from a man who says he had a beer with a Norse god?"

Selvig just shrugged sheepishly.

The heavy door to the preparation room opened, and Banner and Stark wearily returned to the observation lab, dragging their feet.

"Tell me we got something we can use?" Stark demanded the instant the door sealed behind him, impatiently stepping around the monitors to study the data output on the screens.

"Well," Dan began carefully, standing next to him, "I think it's safe to say that the artifact is sentient."

"Safe to say," Stark agreed cynically, nodding with a disconcerted smirk. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, "God, I need a drink."

"That sounds like a good idea," Banner conceded.

Stark looked over at him, surprised, "It does? Since when?"

"Not the alcohol," he clarified, "A break. I think we could all use one after that. And, I could really use a decent cup of coffee."

"Yes," Selvig added with a heavy sigh, "I think that would do us all some good. Come back in the morning with a fresh set of eyes."

"Alright then," Banner yawned, having made up his mind. Stretching his arms above his head, he headed for the lab door with Selvig close behind, "See you all in the morning."

Dan watched them exit through the recreation area, before turning back to the monitor to begin cataloging the new charts.

"What about you?" Stark asked bluntly, crossing his arms over his vintage t-shirt with a huff, "You on the wagon, too?"

"Ah, no," he sniggered in response, "No. But I promised Charlotte I'd spend some time with her tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Stark drawled inquisitively as he sank down onto one of the stools, toggling back and forth on his toes like an impatient child, "How's she doing with all of this?"

Dan scoffed at his own folly, shaking his head miserably.

"That bad, huh?"

"She's pissed at me," he told him, "She's trying not to let me see it, but I can tell."

That was his Charlotte. No matter how angry or how upset she was, she concealed her emotions behind a robust wall of indifference and sarcasm. After her mother had gotten sick, Charlotte had somehow gained the notion that she had to be the strongest, the bravest, and the toughest amongst their family. That it was her job to take care of them.

At seven years-old, his little girl had watched her mother waist away from cancer. While he had been arguing with the doctors, it had been Charlotte holding Cassandra's hand through all the chemotherapy and radiation. For five years, Charlotte had sat by her mother's side, while he had buried himself in research, trying everything he could to save his wife's life. But in the end, when it had really mattered, it had been Charlotte who had watched the light leave Cassandra's eyes, not him.

Charlotte had never been the same after that, and it was the greatest regret of his life.

Stark stopped swaying, "Can you blame her?"

"Not at all," he admitted bitterly with a sigh, "Honestly, I'd be worried if she wasn't angry with me."

Stark stood, taking a step towards the door as he began losing interest, "She's a smart kid. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"That's part of the problem," Dan chuckled under his breath, "She's smarter than me, and she knows it. Hell, she's known it since she was sixteen."

"Sounds like that made her teenage years pretty entertaining," Stark paused, turning back out of mild curiosity.

"Yes," Dan confirmed with a nostalgic grin, "She never got into trouble or anything, but it's hard to convince your child that you know what's best for her when her IQ is higher than yours by twenty points." He shrugged his shoulders, "Come to think of it, I don't think I ever really knew what was best for that girl."

Stark was looking at him very strangely now. He slowly sat back down on the stool, "Uh-huh?"

"M.I.T. wasn't her idea," Dan confessed, "Free ride or not, Charlotte never wanted to go. From the time her mother took her to see _Top Gun_ , all she's ever wanted to do is fly jets. It was all I could do to keep her from running away and joining the Navy the day she turned eighteen."

"Really?" Stark sounded sincerely surprised.

"College was a compromise," he continued, "And, now she's set to graduate with her bachelor's in December. She's already told me that she's enlisting after. She's got the whole thing planned out, down to the day."

"I know some of those guys," Stark nodded reflectively, shifting forward slightly on his seat, "Sounds to me like she might just be determined enough to make it."

"Yeah," Dan smiled proudly, "I know she is."

He cleared his throat, suddenly looking down at his feet self-consciously, "You know, she's your biggest fan. I thought I could get myself out of trouble by introducing you, but she's too embarrassed."

Stark grinned at that, life coming back into his eyes, "Well, you know what they say about meeting your heroes."

"That's exactly what she said," Dan snorted.

Stark stood for a second time, clapping Dan on the shoulder sociably on his way back out the door. "Bring her topside in an hour," he instructed him with a shrewd smirk, "I'll show her the suit. You'll be father of the decade."

* * *

Ascending steadily towards the surface, Tony Stark leaned back in the elevator with is eyes closed.

What had happen down in the containment chamber had left him rattled and unsure of what to think, but it was his conversation with Dan Gale about fatherhood that was currently eating at him.

Howard Stark had been many things to his son, but a tender father had never been one of them. His relationship with Tony had been strained at best. The man had always seemed cold. His entire childhood, in fact, Tony had genuinely believed that Howard had wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. It was only recently that he had begun to see another side of the man, hidden in the things he had left behind.

He felt a twinge of envy for Charlotte. The way Gale had talked about her had made him wish that he had had that kind of loving relationship with his own father. Though, he supposed, relationships between fathers and daughters were much different than those between fathers and sons.

The elevator doors slid open. Stepping out onto the gleaming catwalk above the hanger, Tony turned left, leisurely making his way towards the cafeteria. A strong cup of coffee suddenly sounded very tempting.

He would make his Irish.

* * *

Dan Gale was almost finished cataloging the new data. He whistled happily to himself as he worked, his fingers racing across the keyboard on the table in front of him.

Not only would he be introducing his daughter to Tony Stark in a matter of minutes, but the billionaire had agreed to show her the Iron Man suit. Dan knew that, while Charlotte may not have wanted to go to college initially, she had found a secondary passion in engineering. And, that suit was the engineering marvel of the century. To her, it would be like having the Wright brothers show her their airplane.

He was about to lock the system for the night, when he heard a sudden rush of air come from within the decontamination chamber.

He stepped out from around the monitor, peering into the recreation area as three figures entered. He did not recognize the two male agents, but the small woman at their front with the bob haircut was Agent Taylor. The agent that he knew had been assigned to looking after Charlotte.

Immediately, his heart began to flutter with worry and he hurriedly stepped towards the glass wall, unlocking the door.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her, near frantic as he pushed it open for them, "Is there something you need?"

Before he could fully process what was happening, Taylor had his head locked back, her solid grip laced into his greying hair, and a razorblade pressed firmly to his throat. He swallowed dryly, feeling the sharp edge scrape against the growth of his facial hair, and panic suddenly erupted through him. His entire body stiffened.

"Yes, actually," she hissed treacherously into his ear, "I need you to do exactly as I say."


End file.
